Fascist Hearts Bleed Red
by implicity
Summary: It is easier to hate than to love, easier to fight than to reconcile, and nearly impossible to find an area in between when loving your enemy may cost you the war.
1. Chapter 1

Its 8.13.13 so this AkuRoku day is especially special! This is just the first chapter of a story that I hope you all will like, enjoy the rest of your AkuRoku day.

Disclaimer:Not my characters

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Chapter One

Roxas paced the span of the family library thumbing over the spines of the books, his small fingers traced the leather bindings skimming over the titles waiting for something spark his interest. His mother told him she had been disappointed by his lack of knowledge in respects to the kingdom he was one day supposed to rule, so he set off to the library to research his heritage. Though he had been forced into the library he didn't hate it, studying gave him something to do which was a good thing, and it was quiet there. Roxas took deep breaths finding comfort in the dim lit room, the ceiling extending far above his head reaching to the skylight that currently displayed the gray storm clouds looming overhead.. The still and deafening silence was enough reason for Roxas to study this country's history for years. Everywhere he went people fussed, and yelled _prince_ all the time, the soldiers disrupted everything and his mother thought that any the time was a good time to send his unwanted future wife his way. Roxas shook all those thoughts from his head and directed his attention to a bright blue with his family name on it.

Deep in the heart of Hollow Bastion Roxas's father ruled with no mercy, Roxas admired and feared his father. But what Roxas feared even more than his father was the fact that one day his father's reign would end forcing him to ascend the throne. The pressure weighed heavily on him each day but lately the pressure seemed even greater. Not just for him, but the entire royal family, because there were whispers of a revolution, whispers of revolts, and day by day the whispers grew louder and louder and it was only a matter of time before they turned to screams. While Roxas studied his predecessors in the silence of the ancient library, rain poured down in heavy buckets rinsing away the blood of resistance.

Roxas' father, Cloud, sat upon his stallion on a hilltop while his men valiantly rode through the woods; they were looking for the vermin that scattered throughout the woodland in fear of death. Cloud's blond hair hung down in tufts, drenched with rain, sticking to his fair skin. His blue eyes scanned through the forest with an intensity fueled by his hatred for the so-called revolutionaries who even dared to think of defying his rule, the rule that had been rightfully bestowed on him at the death of his late father. Crowned at the mere age of seventeen, he was the youngest king known to date and he ruled with an iron fist. If he ever got his hands on even one of them…

His thoughts were interrupted when Zack; his second in command, came confidently riding up the hill on his strong black steed. "Sire, we've located some of them, they are on foot and our men have begun pursuit," he said breathlessly.

"Show me," was the blonde's haste response

Zack quickly turned his horse around with a fierce yank of the leather reigns heading right back down the hill that was becoming slicker due to the incessant rain. Cloud stayed close behind, the sounds of battle increasing as they drew near. Once they reached the bottom Cloud could see them scattering as his men rounded them up.

"Do not kill them all!" yelled Cloud using his most authoritative voice. "We will take prisoners," he announced with a satisfied smile.

"Yes. We will take prisoners," he said again in a much softer voice to nobody in particular. Zack's eyes flitted over to him for just in time to catch the devious smile still fresh on his lips.

He looked onward as many of the traitors fought with his men, sword to sword and hand to hand but Cloud had little to be worried about, or so he thought until one large rebel appeared seemingly out of thin air. He took down soldier after soldier while barely breaking a sweat, Cloud was prepared to intervene when Zack stepped up.

It happened so fast, he never stood a chance.

In the blink of an eye, Zack rode up behind him, withdrew his sword and sliced his head clean from his neck. Cloud let out a roar of laughter with water pouring down on him as the head itself flew up in the air and landed back down into a muddy puddle with a resounding splash, blood still gushing from the remainder of the limp body as it lay on the ground berated by rain and trampled by horses. His boisterous laughter rumbled from the deepest pit of his body as he rode deeper into the woods, his horse splashed through the puddles of mud fighting to keep its footing on the slippery grass. Cloud's men rounded the trees to speak to him.

"What do you want us to do next your majesty?" questioned one soldier.

"Where are my prisoners?" asked the blond.

The man cleared his throat. "We have not managed to capture any your highness…you see they put up such a fight it was…it was more efficient to simply kill them to try and entrap them your majesty."

The edge of the king's lip quivered into a snarl.

"Excuses," he muttered snapping his fingers, and on cue the man directly behind him slid a blade into the back the soldier through the thin space in his armor. Cloud had deemed him useless, that was all it took. The shock was evident on his face as the light left his eyes and he fell lifelessly off of his horse. Blood dripped steadily onto the gray mane of the steed that let out a dejected neigh as its rider collapsed on the ground beside it.

"Prisoners!" he growled at the soldiers standing around him. There was no time to process the fact that one of their own had just been murdered by a soldier from his own regiment, one he probably regarded as a brother. They had been given a task by King Strife VII-and that was law.

"Split up into three battalions. This is not a war of numbers but a war of intelligence. We are smarter than these traitors. Kill who you must, but we _will_ take captives," yelled Zack to the small army. He looked back to Cloud for further instruction but the blonde simply nodded. A primal scream ripped from Zack's throat before he quickly descended the hill, his men following him. With military precision they separated into equal groups of roughly thirty completely disregarding their surroundings, they brutally slashed through bushes and trees to find the enemy.

The rebels were at a clear disadvantage seeing as the King's army was on horseback while they were all on foot, once a rebel was spotted it was nearly impossible for him to escape, many were unfortunately—or fortunately depending on your outlook-killed by impatient soldiers; it was Zack who did most of the capturing. The dark-haired man got off his horse and gently stroked its long nose. It brayed unhappily as the rained continuing pouring in sheets.

"Shh girl, it's okay. A little rain never hurt anybody."

He looked back at his prisoners that were all tied up. Bound individually by their wrists and ankles but tied together by one long rope which was attached to a large tree that towered over them all. All of the precautions were unnecessary seeing as the will of the rebels was gone, they had been captured by the army of King Strife, they were sure that death was imminent.

"Move, and I will dismember you, one extremity at a time. You will beg for death and I will show no mercy," he said with a deathly glare.

Zack brushed his wet hair out of his face as he looked around. It was dead silent, no wind, not even the sound of falling leaves. Instead of assuring him that they had successfully defeated the rebel army it made him concerned, the silence seemed to be a preamble for disaster. He looked around once more taking slow steps as he paced the densest part of the forest. Yes, he was in their territory now, the rebels knew the landscape much better than him but he showed absolutely no fear. As he walked he felt a rain drop but instead of the frigid water that had been falling, it was warm—body temperature. By the time he had realized the strange liquid was blood and not rain it was too late. The treasonous man had jumped off the highest limb of the tree and onto his back. Zack landed face down in mud and struggled to move the body off of him.

"You fucking traitor, get off me!" Zack hollered with unbridled rage.

"Long live the revolution!" screamed the man with flaming red hair turning over the solider and punching him in the center of his face.

He kept punching the second in command relentlessly with years of pent up hatred and resentment. Several of Zack's soldiers came to the scene drawn in by the loud screams. Two quickly dismounted their horses and grabbed the rebel by his arms, Zack was still on the ground fading in and out of consciousness One of the largest soldiers—Angeal, grabbed the boy by his bright hair tearing him off Zack's body. He kicked him directly in the middle of his back shoving him to the ground before he dragged him to a puddle forming nearby, four or five inches deep and forced his face into the filthy water holding him by the back of his head. The disgusting water polluted with mud and leaves rushed in through his lips and his nostrils, the rebel fought to get away from the water threatening to flow into his lungs, finally, he was released and he fell back only to feel a swift kick to his side. He screamed out in pain, he was sure the thick heel had broken a rib. Other soldiers had gotten Zack to his feet but he was still disoriented. Once the soldiers had gotten their fill of beating on the redhead they tied him up separately and brought him and the other prisoners to Cloud.

As they marched up the hill the group of prisoners hung their heads low whispering dirges; images of mass execution filled their brains. Taken to the gallows, shot by King Strife himself with a single bullet to the head. The most morbid envisioned slow torture that included castration and starvation—unfortunately for them his thoughts would be the most accurate, death would seem merciful in comparison to what they would soon be forced to bare. The rain hadn't let up at all making the path compacted with mud, the feet of the soldiers sinking with each step, it was worse for the prisoners whose shoes had been removed upon capture. The redheaded traitor was still tied up separately held by two soldiers—one on each arm. Despite the harsh imprisonment he still fought, he struggled and kicked and scratched as they dragged him to the king. Cold, wet, and tired the soldiers had long ago grown weary of beating him and instead just pulled him forward ignoring his screaming and resistance.

"Kill me if you want! I will be a martyr, the people will rise and your empire will fall. You fascist bastards! Either kill me now or kill yourselves later. When I escape you will pay the price; your head on spikes, your women raped, your children murdered. Then, you will know, you will know why I fight," he screamed over the clapping of thunder.

His words could have incited a riot, in a different time, in better weather conditions, but here he was ignored, his voice drowned out by the rhythmic clopping of horse shoes and by the weeping of the men who wanted nothing more than to hold their babies one last time. After waiting for nearly forty-five minutes Cloud had ordered his page to bring back a carriage for him to sit in away from the freezing rain and it's fierce winds. When the soldiers finally reached the mountain top nearly two hours later they were exhausted and furious with the one rebel who refused to be silenced. As Cloud saw them approach he stepped out of the carriage while the page stood behind him holding an umbrella. The chain of prisoners was handed over to the battalion that had returned nearly an hour earlier. The self proclaimed martyr was kicked to his knees forced to bow at the feet of the king.

"Why is he separate, why is this one special?" inquired Cloud looking him over.

He gave us problems your liege, lots of problems," said Angeal.

"Where is Zachery?" he asked looking through his men.

Two soldiers stepped aside showing the second in command, at that moment he only had a blueish bruise under his left eye. The rain had rinsed away the blood from his broken nose, the true extent of his injuries wouldn't be revealed until he was at the castle's infirmary.

"He did that?" he asked pointing to the rebel while looking to his soldiers.

"Yes sire," said Zack. "He may have landed a hit or two but overall-"

"A hit or two?! You lying son-of-a-bitch. If your little lackeys hadn't appeared I would have killed you. I could have destroyed you right then and there. I showed mercy on you, you useless foot stool."

Angrily Zack advanced towards him but was stopped by a raised hand from the king

"See?! You're nothing but a servant, why waste my energy on you. You're a glorified pet. A lap dog who willingly receives the scraps of the king. "

Zack snarled but obeyed the orders given to him.

Cloud chuckled to himself. "I see why you are separated. You are a problem," he said with a slow nod.

"Forward," said Cloud turning his back on the redhead getting back in his carriage .

The other battalion was now in charge of the group of prisoners holding onto the drenched rope. The redhead refused to be held and so he walked with tied ankles and tied wrists behind two soldiers. It had been hours and the rain was still as strong as when they had left that morning, perhaps even stronger. It made their limbs numb, it was hard to see where they were going and they were nearly a mile away from the palace.

The separated fighter had finally stopped his screaming and kicking and walked along the way he was supposed to. Exhausted, they all trudged forward just trying to get it over with. The extended time in the awful conditions had lead them all to let their defenses down, naturally the redhead took this opportunity. He slowly removed the dagger from the waist-belt of the soldier in front of him with stealth and patience remaining undetected, holding it close to him for several minutes ensuring that the prohibited weapon was not seen. When he believed he was safe he quickly bent down and sliced the ropes around his ankles before sprinting into the forest.

"He's escaping!" yelled a panicked soldier from the back of the march.

Zack headed off after him. From the window of his carriage Cloud could see all that was happening. He demanded he be let out, the carriage quickly stopped and his sword was handed to him.

"Which way did they go?" he asked his men angrily.

They all pointed in the direction that the two men had ran off to shaken by the harsh, almost evil voice that Cloud had as he ran off clutching his sword tightly. His feet roughly pounded the flooded grasslands that lead back to the forest. Determined, Cloud ran with incredible speed, he hated all the traitors as a whole before but now this foolish troublemaker had just made things personal. He would never let him die, he would keep bringing him to the brink of death and just when he thought it was over he would bring him back and torture him further. Cloud internally agreed with his magnificent plan while continuing his search for the redheaded runaway. He didn't want his men interfering, he wanted to be the one to capture the idiot. He saw a quick flash of his bright red hair and with a growl he veered in that direction. As he rounded the trees he found himself in a clearing; Zack was there and so was the rebel.

"He's mine!" shouted the king demanding that Zack stand down. Infuriated Zack allowed the blonde to have his way and angrily sheathed his sword and watched as his king ran pass him across the field after the treasonous boy. He growled to himself tightly gripping the hilt of his sword as he paced in the rain. In his mind, he envisioned tearing him to shreds, chopping off that unnaturally bright hair. He hissed still pacing as he waited for the king and the prisoner to return. Cloud had spotted him in the clearing and continued after him like a hawk hunting prey, the rebel was fast but Cloud was faster and quickly gaining on his heels. The labored breathing of the two created puffs of steam in the ice cold air as they kept running. The boy's stamina was running low while the king was still full of energy. With only inches between them the monarch drew his weapon slicing the redhead across his back cutting through his soaked shirt and piercing his skin, the blood bubbled to the surface and he let out a shriek from the pain as he collapsed on the ground his palms gripping at the blades of grass trying to ignore the intensifying pain.

"Fuck you! Fuck you! You're a Satan spawn,." he growled with his head down.

"I am the direct decedent of greatness and you are scum." he said digging the heal of his mud covered boot in his open wound.

He screamed out again as his entire body was lowered to the ground. Cloud grabbed him his bound wrists and pulled him to where he had left Zack.

"I don't know whether you are brave or foolish," he said as he handed him to his right hand man.

"Keep a close grip on this one Zack," he said looking him over once more.

With a sigh and nod he grabbed the traitor and pulled him along back through the clearing and the trees. Finally the two rejoined the army.

"He rides with me," said the king firmly snatching the captive by his wrist.

The other prisoners groaned in jealousy watching as the worst behaved of them all was rewarded with a warm ride back, albeit to his doom, but it was still a warm ride.

The redhead sat beside the king with his hands folded in his lap.

"I'm trying to decide what would be the best course of action for dealing with you. Simply killing you wouldn't work but just torturing you would serve no purpose. What do you suggest?"

The rebel remained silent.

"Hmm, quiet. I suppose there is a first time for everything."

As they came up the drive of the palace the trumpets sounded announcing their arrival. Roxas put down his book and raced to the window watching as his father came in. He furrowed his brow at the hoard of people being brought in behind him tied up like cattle, dragged by soldiers. He walked out of the library hurrying towards the staircase to see what was happening. Roxas descended the wide marble steps, his hand gliding down the polished railing. The soldiers stomped leaving dirty tracks across the shiny floor, lady-in-waiting Tifa stood by the wall with her arms crossed watching in dismay as the sparkling floors were destroyed by uncaring soldiers. The queen Aerith came out as well at the sound of the fanfare, it was then that she noted the prisoners that were tied and bound, they surely would be executed, tortured or both. From across the large entrance she saw Roxas watching.

"Roxas, upstairs," she said not wanting her son to be privy to the awful sight of bloodied rebels.

The blonde angrily glared at her.

"When it comes to knowing the middle name of every gray haired corpse that's ruled before me the information of this kingdom is of the utmost importance, but when present turmoil is right before me I am sent upstairs like a child."

Tifa watched on as the two bickered forcing back a smile.

"Away," said Aerith to the lady-in-waiting who reluctantly exited.

"You are too young Roxas, upstairs." she said once more.

He angrily turned back away heading upstairs determined to see what was happening no matter what his mother said. He waited on the third floor of the palace, the floor that belonged to only him, biding his time until he could go downstairs and see the events taking place in his castle. When everything seemed silent he walked back down the wide marble steps; the entrance was empty. Roxas nodded to himself before rounding the corner. At the back of the wide steps there was a small entrance way blocked by a heavy steel door, Roxas had only been down the passageway once but he knew that whatever was taking place he would surely find answers there. He yanked the heavy handle with all his strength and still it just barely squeaked open. There was no need for a lock on the door, anybody who didn't belong down there wouldn't dare venture into such a dangerous place. Despite Aerith's attempts to shield Roxas from the violence of their kingdom he knew about all the horrific deeds that took place in the castle's own prison. He walked down the dark stairwell, there were no lights until you reached the bottom, at the end of the narrow steps there was the enormous hall full of holding cells that took up the entire bottom of the castle. Weeping and wailing was heard from every corner but far in the distance Roxas heard fighting. He followed the sound, his feet clicking on the cold cement, prisoners trembled in fear and shrieked at the sight of Roxas, mistaking him for his father. As he reached the end of the hallway he found himself at the origin of the loudest screams in the prison.

"You are nothing, understand?!" a deep voice bellowed followed by the sound of flesh on flesh.

Roxas winced hearing the person receiving the beating hiss.

The door was already cracked, Roxas simply opened it a bit wider to get a better view.

"You will beg for death, and I will still say no," Cloud growled with his hands around the throat of his favorite rebel.

Roxas stared on with wide eyes, he had never seen his father delivering corporal punishment, only heard stories.

He reeled back his fist sending a sharp blow to the gut of the redhead boy.

"Sire!" shouted Zack.

"What?!" he questioned, obviously annoyed.

Zack nodded in the direction of Roxas; the king smiled.

"Good Roxas, its good that you're here, come in," he said beckoning his son.

The heir hesitantly stepped into the room, it was freezing cold and filled with the overwhelming metallic scent of blood.

"I was just breaking in your new gift, a personal slave," he said smiling brightly.

He roughly grabbed the boy by his red hair forcing him to stare directly at Roxas.

"This is Axel. Axel, this is Roxas. Meet your new master."

Blue met Green, and the rebel spit in the face of the prince.

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Hope you enjoyed this so far, read and review!~


	2. Chapter 2

Yet another chapter, I'm on a every six week uploading schedule in case you were curious

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Chapter 2

"And this province," Roxas explained "is newly acquired territory, father took out an entire village in the course of a day to secure this land. I've seen it with my own eyes, it belongs to us," he said nodding with reassurance. "This so called revolution is nothing to be concerned about, that much I can promise,"

The blonde looked at his two sisters who always had infinite questions and child like curiosity despite the fact that they were older than him.

"So what about this area over here, in the mountains. Is it true that the rebels have a base there?" asked Namine, the oldest of the three pointing her delicate finger to the upper portion of the map that hung on the back wall of the library. The male blonde scoffed "It wasn't a base, it was a cave barely covered by bushes, and again, father destroyed that as well, that's where my slave was captured. Father and his men went in, took as many rebels as they saw fit, and killed the rest."

Kairi shuddered at the thought of that much blood, while Roxas had grown to proudly boast about their father's exploits, the youngest girl was still nauseated at the thought of lifeless eyes and massacred children.

"Brother, I am proud of the advancements you have made in just these last few months, you are truly more knowledgeable," said Namine with a sweet smile patting Roxas on his back.

"That means a great deal sister," said Roxas with a curt nod.

The three royal siblings had gathered in the library as they often did, Roxas would teach his sisters about the past, present and future of their kingdom while spending quality time with them. Their mother wanted the girls to be princesses above everything else, beauty and fragility were desired characteristics but intelligence was not. The queen believed that women who knew too much in turn said too much, ultimately stepping outside the confines of the princess role. Roxas' older sisters disagreed and insisted that their brother help to keep them informed on current events and educate them on past ones. Since Roxas had began his daily inquires in the family library he was able to provide the girls with even more information which they willingly absorbed.

Namine calmly paced, circling the map, no doubt formulating her next inquiry, while waiting Kairi mustered the courage to ask her burning question.

"You say, this revolution is nothing," she began

"Of course,"

"but Riku was your fencing teacher, he's taught you since you were only ten years old and now he is being hung for treasonous acts, we let him into our home once every week, we laughed with him, told stories with him, and it is unfathomable to believe that he has been one who wanted to..." her voice broke and she looked away.

Kairi had the fragility part down.

"I never said there were no rebels and I never said they were not doing a good job at recruiting, but it simply comes down to man power and intelligence. We outnumber them and we are smarter than them," the blonde said with a dismissive shrug

"You are not worried?" asked Namine

"Not at all. So they managed to corrupt a few minds? So what. Father takes a Machiavelli style approach to governing his kingdom,"

"Better to be feared than loved," said Namine finishing his sentence for him.

"Precisely. Stamping out resistance will not be fun," she said with a tinge of anger looking towards Kairi "but we ultimately will regain full control,"

Namine looked at Roxas, his sapphire eyes seemed to reflect her own, right down to the stubborn glare. It's why Namine looked more like Roxas than Kairi, despite the gender difference they both had that look of unstoppable persistence.

"You take a Machiavelli approach too?" she questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"You speak of Axel?"

Namine crossed her arms over her chest and Kairi shuddered again, she knew the sorts of things he did to Axel and it bothered her.

"Yes. To be feared is to be respected,"

His oldest sister looked at him as her lip twitched into a smile she was itching for an argument, not because she disagreed but because a good natured sibling argument was healthy.

"So you mean to tell me that you believe you can bring fear to a rebel that spit in your face while father watched,"

"That was months ago and,"

"You mean to say he spit in your face?" asked Kairi with a look of disgust.

Roxas opened his mouth to speak again when he was interrupted.

"Your majesties," said Tifa—the raven haired Lady-in-Waiting—as she walked into the library with her head bowed slightly.

"Hello. How are you?" asked Roxas as she approached with a smile on his face. Unlike the other members of the castle staff Tifa treated all the children as if they were equals, she was kind but not sycophantic, she was a phenomenal listener and gave the greatest advice. To her, they we were more than the royal children, and for that they all loved her, especially Roxas.

"I thought I would give a warning," she said to Roxas conspiratorially "your mother has sent for Xion, it might be best to make yourself scarce," she said with the raising of her eyebrows. The blonde breathed a deep sigh feeling both annoyed and relieved as he took her hand into his.

"I owe you many, many, thanks," he said. She nodded and sauntered out. The blonde turned to face the older girls. "Well sisters I am afraid I have to cut our studying short today,"

Kairi simply sighed and nodded while Namine placed her hands on her hips and shook her head.

"Of all the available princesses why did mother develop a fascination for Xion, the two of you are so poorly matched, anyone with eyes could see that."

"No one agrees with that more than I sister but when Aerith gets an idea in her head there is truly no stopping her."

"Do you think continually ignoring her will get the point across? And your silly passive aggressive antics do not count. Roxas you must say something,_ really _say something. Mother would have you marry that girl. I do not think you have truly realized that."

"I'll take care of it Namine," he said calmly placing a hand on her shoulder. "but not today."

Roxas walked out of the library doing a quick check to make sure that the princess had not already arrived before he took himself to his private sanctuary on the third floor. It was tradition that the the west wing of the third floor was reserved for the eldest male, being that he was the only son, naturally it went to him. He had ample space and infinite silence, he released a deep breath as he walked into the room feeling more at ease the second he stepped in, but only for a moment.

"Get this off me! Get this the fuck off me!" shouted the redhead from his designated corner in Roxas' room while he sat down with his knees up to his chest and yanked at the metal collar around his neck. A short chain about eighteen inches in length extended from the oppressive accessory and was attached to a metal post that Roxas had welded into the white wall adjacent from his large walk-in closet. His father had been proud when he saw the setup.

"I came up here for peace and quiet," said the blonde with a roll of his eyes. He was not in the mood for the rebel's yelling and fighting, he knew that Xion would be there soon enough and the very thought was exhausting.

"The sons of fascist dictators don't deserve life, let alone peace and quiet," he spat.

The prince groaned and cracked his neck, Axel was treading on thin ice. "Well, I suppose yesterday's conditioning has worn off. Are we really back to square one Axel?" he asked clasping his hands together.

The rebel cringed at the sound of his own name coming from the lips of the blonde. It had been four months since the king had captured him and made Roxas his new master. Initially the blonde was weak and afraid, it was evident that the cruelty of his father wasn't fully realized this boy; but that was four months ago. After a few days of having Axel to himself the inherent evil that was woven into his genetic makeup began to surface. Roxas became volatile and sadistic. He found new ways to abuse and destroy Axel but he was resilient, another man would have broken after some of the hour long beatings, but Axel continued on with his treasonous acts.

"You tell me?" asked Axel with a raise of his eyebrow challenging the prince.

Roxas took a step closer standing over him, Axel's lip twitched angrily as the boy loomed above.

With a grimace, he began to stand, but Roxas stopped him with a sharp hit to the top of his head using a closed fist. Axel closed his eyes trying to ignore the dull pounding that was beginning around the spot of the impact, he was sure it wasn't bleeding but it felt that way. Angrily, he tried to kick his assailant but Roxas moved out of the way before being hit. All Axel had managed to do was annoy the blonde, the prince took a large handful of that bright red hair into his palm pulling is harshly.

"Either my eyesight is failing or you just tried to kick me. Did you just try to kick me?" he asked in an angry whisper.

The rebel said nothing which only irritated Roxas further, he pulled at the hair harder making Axel breathe in sharply as he tried not to scream out, he refused to give Roxas the satisfaction.

"Did you, just try, and kick me?" he asked a bit louder.

"Yes," replied Axel with a huff.

The blonde released his hair and turned his back on Axel taking a deep breath, he paused for a moment continuing with the deep breathing, his hands were linked together behind his back. With his head still down he inhaled and exhaled, squeezing his fingers together. He quickly turned back around and punched the unsuspecting prisoner square in the center of his face forcing blood to pour from his nostrils mimicking the color of his trademark hair. The rebel looked up as the blood slid down his face before inhaling deeply with a disgusting sucking noise before he spit the blood on the floor in front of him. He looked up at the prince wiping the remaining trickles from his face, more came dripping down but significantly less. Roxas kept his face devoid of any emotion but he was truly disgusted by the mixture of blood and phlegm sitting on his floor.

"You are going to clean that up, you are going to clean up," hissed the blonde refusing to look at the stain for fear of losing control of his stomach. The prince recaptured the bright hair and pushed his head back banging it into the wall. "I don't know what the hell is wrong with you but you will understand. I. Own. You," he said hitting Axel's head against the wall with each word.

He drew his hand back to strike the redhead again when he heard a knock at the door, he groaned looked over at the source of the sound.

"Who is it?"

"Roxas, it is your mother, you have a guest."

"I am busy. Tell them to come back later."

"Roxas, the guest is Xion."

As if that would change his mind, he signed in annoyance for what seemed like the millionth time that day, he knew his mother and the girl weren't going anywhere anytime soon.

"I need five minutes, tell her to meet me in the study and have one of the servants bring me a bucket of soap and water with a sponge," he said looking at the blood for just a brief moment, he gagged but managed to make it unnoticeable.

"Yes dear," said Aerith, after her words the sound of her heels clicking on the marble floors resonated near his door and eventually dissipated into nothingness. Frustrated by his mother and her incessant matchmaking he slapped Axel. He hissed pacing his room angered by her arrival, he didn't want to see her. He looked back at his human punching bag sending a sharp kick straight to his rib cage, the redhead lurched forward only to be yanked back by the dog like collar on his neck. He coughed as the metal pressed against this throat.

The rebel took short breaths trying not to react. The reality of the situation was the he was chained by his hands and his neck. He sent a contemptuous look towards his captor repressing his urge to swear loudly at the devil spawn. The two starred each down with looks of hatred. The knock at the door returned and Roxas quickly snatched it open frightening the servant on the other side holding the bucket and sponge.

"You wanted these your majesty?" he questioned meekly not daring to look the hostile blonde in the eyes.

"Give them to him, and make sure the floor is spotless when he has finished," he said storming pass bumping the shoulder of the frightened messenger. The servant looked over to Axel with a pathetic look before extending the cleaning tools to him. For a moment Axel just stared before taking them from him.

"Don't feel sorry for me. We're both slaves, but they haven't broken me like they've broken you."

The eyes of the servant flitted to the ground before his hasty exit. Axel groaned and got to work cleaning the floor with less anger and discontent than he would have liked. He scrubbed quickly suddenly regretting that little stunt as he now struggled against the chain and bound wrist to clean the mess. If the floor wasn't clean once the prince returned it would still be Axel's fault and so he continued to scrub. He wasn't broken yet but the rebel feared he was well on his way.

The blonde prince on the other hand had plenty of anger and greater discontent as he walked to the study to meet Xion. This, he thought to himself, is what it must feel like to go to the gallows. He dragged his feet cursing his mother under his breath with each step. As he walked into the room he found his mother sitting in a large chair by the bookcase with her hands neatly folded on her lap, her pale pink dress pressed perfectly, she was everything a queen should be. The princess looked up as her future husband walked in and beamed.

Xion felt her heart flutter as he walked in, the flighty feeling spread from her chest consuming her entire body through to her fingertips. At that moment Xion felt like she could soar, perhaps she already was.

No matter how many times he slammed doors in her face, rode away on his horse when she brought him presents and replied to her letters beginning with "my mother demanded I write you," every time she was in his presence this feeling reappeared and all she could do was smile

"Xion," he said taking her hand in his placing a gentle kiss on it in the cordial way that he had been taught, she blushed as she always did.

"Good to see you again, how are you?" he asked politely sitting down in the chair across from her feeling tense and claustrophobic but the study always made him feel that way.

The room was dark, stuffy and uncomfortable. Cluttered with paintinga, throw rugs and decorative pillows, the room seemed to suffocate everything creating a feeling of pause as if nothing in the were alive. It felt like a museum, or a mausoleum, the study was where things went to die—or once they were already dead. Aerith had tried so hard in the creation of this room to make it picturesque but ultimately had failed. It was overwhelming and awkward, just like the situation they were in, perhaps that's what this room did best, make uncomfortable situations worse with excessively neat picture frames and hard chairs.

"Wonderful," she said twisting the ends of her long black hair pulling it pass her shoulder, Xion fit in with the room, she too was a failed attempt at perfection with all the life drained out. His eyes followed her fingers as they pressed her hair onto her light blue dress. It was only a year ago that it barely pass her ears, she used to cut it off whenever her and her father got into arguments just to spite him, Roxas would always smile when she came over with her do it yourself hairstyles, but those days were gone. She was no longer a girl any more but a woman and this hairstyle suited her, framing her beautiful face but Roxas never made that observation. He only noticed that she was becoming more and more like his mother each day.

"I hope the trip over was not too uncomfortable?"

"Not at all. My mother has gotten a new carriage it is very spacious and has a large window. I had the best view of the country side as I came over."

"The country side? Your father let you come that way?"

"Of course, it is the fastest way,"

The blonde simply nodded shifting in the painful chair.

"That's lovely, just lovely. So what do I owe this visitation?" Roxas asked trying to appear as cordial as possible despite his irritation. There was an insolent slave who needed his attending, sisters who desired his knowledge and attention, volumes of books in the great library to be read on his ancestors. Anything else but this forced attendance.

"My father is away on business, he preferred for me to stay here than to be alone in the castle with no proper supervision."

"I see, so he'll return tonight?"

Xion looked to Aerith with a look of desperation and fear.

"No," answered his mother. "he''ll be gone for three months, we'll be taking care of Xion until then."

Roxas cleared his throat and stood up. "Marvelous," he said before looking over to his mother. "If you'll excuse me,"

Xion nodded and looked down trying desperately to hide her disappointment. Her father had always told her to make herself unavailable to any suitor but especially powerful princes. Men would only remain interested so long as you remained an enigma. It was best that Roxas knew as little as possible about Xion, she was to stay elusive but that was so hard when she was so in love with him. Every moment she spent in his presence she wanted to pour out her heart and kiss him on the lips but that was not the way a princess behaved. So instead she watched with a pained disposition as Roxas stood up to go.

He was so much taller now than he used to be, when they first met, they stood shoulder to shoulder now he looked over her head, it seemed the growing distance between them happened in more than one respect. The blonde knew there was no way for him to possibly sit in that room with the rage that was building inside of him so he quickly left only to have Aerith follow him.

"Roxas. Roxas," she called as she followed after him. He turned around quickly taking a look his mother trying to keep the resentment off of his face. "Roxas, where are you going. I brought Xion here to see you."

"I understand that,"

"I am not quite sure you do. For if you did, you would still be in that room right now,"

He scoffed "Who said I wanted to see her?"

Aerith huffed and fidgeted in her spot, she was sure this argument was one that had been long hiding in the recesses of his mind. "Roxas. Xion is a lovely girl you've known her for years now, the two of you were such good friends."

"Were mother, meaning, no longer are,"

"It has been years Roxas. At this point your betrothal is definite."

"I have no desire to marry her, did that ever occur to you mother?"

"If you had just picked a princess yourself-"

"Do not make this my fault!"

"She is a nice girl," said the queen refusing to raise her voice because it was unladylike.

"You can force this all you want but you can't me love her," he said defiantly.

"You will grow to accept it. After enough years you will become very fond of her and the love will come later."

The blonde looked at his mother with genuine disbelief before shaking his head and walking away. The queen called after him again but he ignored her and went to his room. In his rage he had forgotten Axel was there and nearly jumped when he saw the redhead sitting in his corner with the bucket beside him. The floor was cleaned and the slave was silent. Axel waited for Roxas to say something to him but he just didn't have the energy. He massaged his temples and walked over to his desk on the other side of the room, it faced out towards the large window. He looked out of it staring longingly wanting to be anywhere else.

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Hope you liked it, review~


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